


Blind Observations

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 03:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16054436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Madara has a habit of looking without properly seeing - although he does really like what he's seeing.





	Blind Observations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mantykora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mantykora/gifts).
  * Inspired by [what not to do in the office](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15541344) by [Mantykora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mantykora/pseuds/Mantykora). 



There wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary about Tobirama’s ass – if you left aside the fact that it looked as though it had been sculpted by the gods themselves. All things considered, however, it was still attached to the most annoying and stuck-up prick that Madara had ever had the displeasure of knowing so it wasn’t as though he planned to do anything with this attraction he had. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t shamelessly check out Tobirama’s posterior so long as the idiot was going to flaunt it so easily around the work place. After all, a man had to take his pleasures where he could find them in this world.

Sliding a little lower in his chair, Madara tilted his head to one side and let his eyes roam down the natural path laid out for him by the seam of Tobirama’s deliciously tight pants. Bent over the Hokage’s desk to mark something on the map spread across the top, he was in perfect position to give the rest of the room a little show. Izuna was much too busy inspecting his nails with boredom and Mito had given her attention to the folder of intel they were all discussing. Neither of them seemed particularly distracted by Tobirama’s ass, which Madara could understand; it was a little disappointing that his favorite eye candy wasn’t worth the trouble of bedding at least once. It would have been nice to sink his teeth in to those perfectly sculpted muscles but the screaming protests it would take to get there turned him off the idea every time he revisited it.

When Tobirama straightened at last just to berate his sibling for some ridiculous statement or another Madara mourned the loss of his wonderful distraction as the younger man’s shirt slid back down in to place. Then he made sure to rearrange his expression so that by the time the object of his gaze turned around there was no hint that he had spent the last ten minutes fantasizing about what he could do with those pale cheeks.

“Mito, my sweet, where did the file say they were first spotted?” Hashirama asked. His wife flicked back a page to check before looking up with a small smile.

“Your brother is right. They were spotted closer to the eastern outpost, not down by the ravines.”

“Hmph.” Sitting back with a pout for having been proved wrong, Hashirama crossed his arms to glare at the map.

Madara was thrilled to see Tobirama roll his eyes and bend down again to reach across and point at the spot they had just been arguing over for so long. While it was annoying that this stupid conference was apparently going to be derailed yet again for another pointless disagreement, at least he had something nice to look at while he waited for order to reassert itself.

Or for Mito to get tired of the bickering and set them all back on track with only a few sharp words.

-

Sparring with Tobirama had several benefits which, in Madara’s mind, far outweighed the downsides of having to spend any time in the company of someone so insufferable. He wasn’t exactly going to be thanking Hashirama for forcing them in to this stupid exercise in learning how to get along but he also wasn’t quite as upset about it as his friend might think.

For one, Tobirama’s sparring outfit left a great deal more skin exposed than his usual attire and the longer they traded blows the more the material stuck to him in a manner which left very little to the imagination. Madara could easily picture this image of a sweat soaked panting Tobirama transposed on to the image of his own bed where the flush on his cheeks would be from a very different kind of strain. He imagined the narrow-eyed look of hyper focus would probably stay the same as well and, honestly, he couldn’t say that didn’t appeal to him all the more.

He was also a fan of the treat which was watching Tobirama’s muscles shift and flow as their limbs struck out against each other. Just watching the man spin about for a roundhouse kick and getting that split second view of his flexing ass was more than worth the pain of a heel connecting solidly with his solar plexus.

Even the vicious smirk parting those pale pink lips and baring sharp teeth was attractive somehow. Madara felt his eye twitch when he finally noticed how badly he had allowed himself to be distracted by his opponent’s physical features. Clearly Tobirama wasn’t aware of his thoughts but it still wouldn’t do for Madara to allow himself to be bested, not by _him_. Tightening his fists with renewed determination, Madara drove forward with intent to disable, if not maim.

There might be some kind of attraction there but Hashirama was mad if he thought they could be forced to get along by being made to fight each other. Stupid backward logic, that was.

-

Public bathing had always been an uncomfortable experience for Madara. Prancing about naked and defenseless with so many other people around, most of whom he had never met, always left him tense during an activity which should have relaxed him. Modesty wasn’t a big problem but feeling a stranger’s eyes on him made him question whether they were admiring his figure or plotting an attack. When possible, he avoided the public baths.

He was very glad that he had not been able to avoid such an outing today. In fact, if this was to be his reward then he would need to give some serious thought to making a new habit of accepting Hashirama’s offers to go together. Madara wondered if there was a way to ask whether Tobirama usually accompanied his brother or not without arousing suspicion.

Observing without getting caught was, for once, incredibly easy. It seemed Tobirama was very used to the hungry stares that followed him as he waded in to the hot water to find a place where he could get comfortable and close his eyes. Hashirama remained as oblivious as ever while he chatted away, complete ignorant of the way Madara’s gaze had yet to leave his brother’s naked body. Miles of pale skin lay stretched out on delicious display, slowly turning pink from the heat of the water, glistening with the steam hanging in the air, and Madara drank it all in with relish.

Try though he might, he couldn’t think of a single thing he did not enjoy about Tobirama – physically at least. Everything from the angular fall of his hair to the faint scars of battle were attractive. Madara tilted his head to one side and tried to imagine what sounds the man might make it he were to sink his teeth in to one of those rosebud nipples, notably small for a man his size but perfectly bitable.

Before he could take the thought much further he jerked as one of Hashirama’s wide hand gestures splashed water in to his face. He turned to his friend with a scowl, annoyed at having his fantasies interrupted.

“Watch it!”

“Oops! Sorry Madara.” Hashirama beamed at him in apology, to which he scowled even deeper.

“I specifically put my hair up so it wouldn’t get wet. I just wanted a nice relaxing soak and now you’re splashing me!”

“But it was an accident!”

Sometime between the crocodile tears and the begging for forgiveness Madara looked over to see that Tobirama still had his eyes closed but his lips were stretched out in an amused smile as he listened to their bickering. He looked vastly different without the frown which seemed to appear by habit each time the two of them were within a dozen feet of each other. Actually it was quite a lovely effect, softening his features until he looked more amiable, almost inviting. Madara wondered idly how much effort it would take to see that smile again – solely for aesthetic purposes, of course.

Not that he had any intentions of putting in that effort. What did he care if Tobirama smiled for him or not? The thought was a distracting one, though, and Madara regretted allowing his attention to waver when Hashirama managed to splash him for a second time.

-

Listening to a bunch of puffed up halfwits yammer on about things that really shouldn’t require this much deliberation was boring. Madara felt absolutely no guilt in letting his mind wander away from the council meeting going on around him to instead focus on something much more interesting.

As he always did, Tobirama sat across the table with a scroll open before him and his hand dancing across the page as he recorded the minutes of their meeting. He hadn’t lifted his eyes in probably close to twenty minutes or even opened his mouth to make one of his usual sarcastic comments. Very likely he wished he could tune out of the proceedings as well and Madara smirked to know that his nemesis was also trapped listening to boring old men squabble like children.

Dressed in the boring vests Hashirama had okayed as the standard uniform, most of his body hidden under the wood of the conference table, there wasn’t a whole lot for Madara to stare at and fantasize about today. Yet somehow he still found himself captivated watching the elegant way Tobirama’s fingers manipulated his pen. For a man he had incredibly beautiful hands, long delicate fingers and smooth palms, soft despite the callouses every shinobi earned in their early years. His nails were all neatly trimmed down and cleaned and Madara blinked slowly as he imaged sucking two of those fingers in to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and hallowing his cheeks.

Fifteen minutes later Madara was startled out of his daydreams by a fist slamming down on the table in irritation and it was hard to say what he found more disturbing: that he was still staring at nothing but Tobirama’s _fingers_ or that the sexual nature of his thoughts had slowly cooled to become a contemplation of what they would feel like wrapped up in his own.

Ridiculous, he grumbled silently to himself as he wrenched his eyes away. No force on earth could ever make him actually want to hold hands with that beast.

-

The only time he could choose to be distracted that might possibly be worse than this would be if they were right in the middle of battle. Listening to Tobirama recap troop movements and known jutsu specialties less than half a mile from the targets they were _about_ to be in battle with was also a bad choice. Not knowing this information could get him or the people around him killed.

Still he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from the top of the man’s head. Today’s weather included a healthy breeze which entered the cave they were using as cover in fits and starts, barely reaching farther than where Tobirama stood in the entrance as he spoke to them all. Each time the wind reached him it lifted his hair and tugged at the frosted locks. He didn’t seem to notice – or if he did then he didn’t care – but Madara found himself fascinated by the effortlessly tousled look reminiscent of someone who had just gotten out of bed. Watching his hair lift and dance was mesmerizing. It made him wonder if those locks would be soft to run his fingers through.

“Uchiha do I have something on my head?” Tobirama’s drawling sneer brought his eyes back down to meet the irritated glare aimed his way. “Or are you deliberately not listening because you wish to put your comrades in danger?”

“Fuck off. I’m listening.” Madara crossed his arms and glared back, embarrassed to have been caught staring. Like hell he would admit to it.

“Go on then, repeat back to me anything of what I just said.”

“I am not a child, Senju. Just keep talking!”

Tobirama huffed and rolled his eyes, turning to face more towards the other shinobi with them in a very subtle snub. Rather than take further offense, Madara made certain that no one was looking his way before allowing his eyes to slide back up in to Tobirama’s hair, though he did make sure to keep his ears open this time.

It wasn’t his fault the stupid man was so pretty. Actually, now that he was paying attention he realized that Tobirama also had a very pleasant voice as well; it rumbled from somewhere deep in the chest, the kind of voice built for dramatic statements and momentous words.

Madara smirked to himself. No wonder their whole clan was so prone to drama.

-

It took several more incidents like these before Madara realized the precarious situation he had managed to get himself in to but by then it was too late. He stared shamelessly whenever Tobirama stretched before a spar, he riled the other up just to listen to the cadences of his voice while he yelled, and it wasn’t until he realized that he was spending his off duty hours seeking the other out just to stare wordlessly that he finally came to terms with what was happening.

Lingering at the edge of the field where Tobirama was currently running his students through several drills, Madara suffered a minor breakdown as the thought occurred to him at last.

“Fuck. Fuck me and fuck it and fuck everything,” he whispered frantically under his breath. “I have a _crush_ on him!” Madara tugged at his hair and spun around to face the opposite direction in case the man he’d been observing happened to look over and wonder at the source of his panic.

Stomping away back towards the village proper, Madara wondered how the hell he’d gotten to this point without even realizing it. It was just supposed to be a healthy bout of lust, nothing more than admiration for another man’s well-shaped body, something to fuel his fantasies but certainly nothing he had ever planned to pursue. Now he realized that somewhere between staring at a fine ass and smiling at sharp dry wit he had developed actual feelings for the worst possible person.

What was he supposed to do with these feelings? Surely he couldn’t _tell_ the man – and kami forbid Hashirama ever find out. He shuddered to think what kind of terrifying reactions his friend would have to knowing about this situation. Either he would deliver the world’s most threatening older brother speech in history or he would enthusiastically air Madara’s dirty laundry to the entire village at top volume. Both of those options sounded awful. Clearly the best thing to do would be to keep to himself, avoid as much contact as possible, and hope that this temporary madness passed quickly.

Tobirama’s laughter echoed through the trees behind him and Madara swallowed thickly when he realized he wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back just so he could listen for that sound again. He was in deeper trouble than he’d thought.

-

“Are you ever going to do something about that?” Tobirama’s voice sent Madara jerking upright in his chair. By the time the other turned around there were no signs he had been staring at anything but his own paperwork, certainly not the delectable rump exposed when his current project partner bent over to grab whatever he had dropped.

“What are you talking about?” he grumbled, hearing the exasperated sigh but refusing to look up.

“That thing you do where you stare at my ass. Are you ever going to do something about it or am I supposed to keep pretending I don’t notice?”

Madara’s jaw clicked painfully as it fell open with shock.

After a long wait with no response Tobirama lifted one eyebrow in a judgmental manner and turned away again, digging through the papers he’d been trying to sort out before. Madara was glad to be given time to think. He’d only just accepted the fact that he had feelings for this asshole and suddenly he was expected to know what he wanted to do with those feelings? That was way too much pressure to spring on someone without warning!

Truthfully he knew exactly what he would want to do with this unexpected crush but the option of making it disappear hadn’t exactly been working out and the option of having it returned hadn’t seemed very likely either. Until now.

“Would you let me do something about it?” he asked cautiously. Tobirama didn’t so much as glance up from the papers he was looking at as he responded, infuriatingly casual.

“I think that depends on exactly what you were to do. And how often you wish to do it.”

“Don’t be filthy! That isn’t what I meant!”

“No?” Tobirama did look up at him then with a genuinely confused expression and Madara sank down in his chair as he realized that the other man probably thought he was only interested in sex.

Grunting darkly, he averted his eyes. “Hn. Never mind. Forget it.”

“I will do no such thing. What else could you possibly be staring at me so often for? Unless you – oh.”

“Shut up!” Shoving his chair violently away from the desk, Madara stood up and scrambled towards the door. Tobirama beat him there. Just before his hand reached for the brass door handle an arm appeared to block his way and Tobirama was there in his face with a stunned expression.

“You _like_ me,” the man said, eyes widening with surprise.

“I said shut up! Get out of my way!”

“Sage above, you _do_ like me.” Tobirama’s face split in to a wide grin and Madara snarled. He didn’t need to be mocked for this!

A scuffle in the doorway wouldn’t exactly be his most dignified moment but Madara was more than prepared to go through with it if the other man didn’t move in the next three seconds. It was much more preferable than the idea of remaining here just to listen to Tobirama making fun of him for something he had no control over.

His half-baked schemes for escaping were foiled when the other man abruptly stopped laughing only to lean forward and pin him against the wall with a fierce kiss and the only thing Madara could think was that he’d been pining for no reason, apparently. Even worse, he had apparently somehow been obvious enough with his physical attraction to catch Tobirama’s eye while at the same time subtle enough with his developing feelings that he himself hadn’t even noticed.

“You like me too,” he accused, murmuring against Tobirama’s lips, unwilling to separate them so soon.

“I have a certain lack of hatred for your very existence. And I could probably be talked in to a date given the proper motivation.” Both of them were grinning, though Madara paused to huff in mock offense.

“Should _I_ bend over so you can check out the goods?”

Tobirama laughed until he was hauled back down for more kisses. Madara took that to mean he would be allowed to stare at the man’s ass whenever he wanted from here on out – among other things, of course.


End file.
